by Ingrid Diaz
So with that it was established that we were generally interested in each other on some mysterious level. I couldn’t help but think of fate, which I didn’t usually believe in. Sometimes, though, fate really did seem like the perfect explanation for the more outlandish events of my life.
After a while, we dropped the game, and I lay down beside her on the sand as we continued to ask each other random questions. At some point I asked her about tattoos, and she smiled and said she had two: a small rose on her right shoulder blade and a broken heart on her left breast. I didn’t ask to see them, but it made me wonder about the broken heart. Had she been hurt at some point in her life? I couldn’t imagine why else anyone would choose to permanently brand her skin with such an icon. Unless there was some farfetched explanation that would never occur to me in a million years.
While she was looking up at the sky, I took the opportunity to look at her. Beautiful was all I could think of to describe her. I found myself comparing her to Jessica, though I knew it was wrong of me to do that. Still, I couldn’t stop myself. Valerie didn’t have Jessica’s exotic looks, but there was something else that attracted me to her. And I wasn’t sure what it was. Not yet, anyway.
Her skin glowed under the soft touch of moonlight spilling through the palm trees. Her blue eyes were fixed on some faraway spot, blinded by whatever thoughts danced in her mind. For one strange, irrational moment, I wished to crawl inside her mind and get lost in the maze of her dreams. Was I so desperate for love?
Her eyebrow ring shone momentarily as the metal reflected the light. She turned to me, an eyebrow arched in question. “You were staring at me.”
“No I wasn’t,” I said, lamely, embarrassed I’d been caught.
Valerie rolled over on her side, propping her head up with her hand. She proceeded to gaze at me curiously without saying anything.
I grew slightly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. “What are you doing?”
“I’m staring at you.”
“I see that. Why?”
“Why were you staring at me?” she asked, her mouth creasing into a smile.
Trapped. How did one answer that question without embarrassing oneself? “I was looking at your piercings. Did they hurt?” I congratulated myself for my wonderful bullshitting abilities as I waited for Valerie to respond.
She looked skeptical for a moment, and I wondered if she was disappointed or impressed by the skillful way I’d dodged that bullet. “They didn’t really hurt, but they were sore for a while, my tongue ring especially. Plus it sucked that I couldn’t do much with it for three months.”
“That must have hindered your sex life,” I said, and wondered if I was flirting.
Valerie grinned. “If I had one maybe.”
Interesting she should say that. Why would she, I wondered? I admit I was being paranoid, but I couldn’t help but question her intentions. Trusting total strangers wasn’t something I was keen on doing. I had enough trouble trusting my best friends. Luckily, I could pretend not to be paranoid. “I can relate.”
“Would you like to get something to eat?”
Food! I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until she said something. “I would love to. I’m starving.”
Valerie stood up and offered her hand to help me. “All that wedding cake is long gone, huh?”
I let her pull me up, but glared at her. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”
Valerie grinned brightly. “I hope so.”
Chapter 5
Starting a relationship, in my opinion, seems like a complicated process. I mean, what marks the start of a relationship? A kiss? Does a particular type of kiss signal the start of a particular kind of relationship. Or is a kiss just a prelude of things to come? Does one sit down with the potential boyfriend/girlfriend candidate and discuss the rules? And who makes up the rules? What if one party wants a committed relationship and the other doesn’t? Whose interests take priority then? Because, really, what are the odds that two random people who are physically attracted to one another turn out to both want the same exact thing at the same exact time?
These were the thoughts going through my mind at dinner, as I contemplated the meaning of what could only be construed as a date. It’s amazing how important the term “date” seems when spoken of, but when you’re in it, it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. Two people just hanging out. Except that with a “date” comes expectations, and these expectations had my stomach in knots.
My mind refocused on the real world, and I grew aware of Valerie watching me.
“You haven’t heard a word I said, huh?” she asked.
It struck me as odd how everyone seemed to know when I wasn’t listening to them. Did my eyes glow with a sign reading “vacant”? “Sorry, I was thinking.”
“About?”
“Relationships,” I responded honestly.
“Oh, really? Anything in particular?” She leaned forward, seemingly interested.
She was asking me to speak my mind. If she only knew what a scary proposition that was. I figured, however, that if I was going to freak her out, I might as well do it before any permanent damage was done. “I was just thinking that relationships are complicated.”
“How so?”
“Well, for instance, is this an official date?”
Valerie frowned slightly. “Um . . .”
“It’s like when does something become romantic as opposed to just friendly and how do you know what kind of relationship you’re entering into—short-term, long-term, one night stand? And how do you know if you’re supposed to be monogamous? Is monogamy even in existence these days? And if you have sex on the first date, does that speed up the relationship process or kill it altogether?”
“Anyone ever tell you that you think too much?”
I smiled. “Hey, these are valid questions.”
Valerie looked around the Baldwin Lakes Mall food court. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Sure.”
We walked outside in silence, comforted by the noise of passing cars and busy shoppers parading across the parking lot. It was when we reached her car that I got the insatiable need to run. One of these days, I thought, pulling open the passenger side door of Valerie’s Bronco II, I’ll actually dart off into the night. This wasn’t that night, so I made myself comfortable, withholding the impulse to drum my fingers on the door’s armrest. Instead, I bit my lip and stole a glance at Valerie who was looking at me curiously. My heart leapt up my throat and I had to swallow it down. Relax, dumbass, became my mantra.
I felt her hand on mine so suddenly, that I jumped, startled. I might have let out a shriek too, I’m not sure, yet surprisingly, her hand didn’t move. I looked up into a pair of twinkling blue eyes. “I’m sorry,” was all I could come up with. “I’m kind of . . . I’ve never . . .” I half expected her to kiss me right then, if only to shut me up. Instead, she laughed, let go of my hand, and started up the car. So I sat back against the seat, feeling like a total asshole.
“I don’t want to get you into bed, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Valerie said suddenly, her eyes glued to the road.
The statement was spoken so softly that I wondered if I’d imagined it. I repeated the statement in my mind, mulling over the meaning of each word, until I felt . . . offended. “You don’t want to get me into bed?”
She glanced at me quickly, surprise written on her face. “Well, no.”
“Aren’t you gay?” I demanded.
“Last time I checked.”
I frowned. “Well, why the hell don’t you want to sleep with me then? You did say I was cute, did you not?”
“I never said you weren’t.”
“And you did give me your number, did you not?”
Valerie pulled the car over to the side of the road.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m pulling over so I can talk to you, ’cause it’s hard to have an argument with someone while you’r
e driving.”
Argument?
She put the car in park and turned to me. “Okay. I didn’t say I never wanted to sleep with you, I was just trying to put your mind at rest if that’s what you were worried about.”
“So you would like to sleep with me, just not tonight?”
Valerie stared at me silently for a moment. “Would you like to sleep with me?”
The question caught me by surprise. It shouldn’t have, but it did, and it hit me that I was discussing having sex with a total stranger. “When?”
“Just in general.”
“Well, I guess that depends.”
“On?”
I sat back. “Well, on several factors. First, I’d have to get to know you better, and I doubt we’d accomplish that on a first date—”
“Are you asking me out on a second date?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Well, we never did finish establishing what this was.”
“For argument’s sake, let’s just call it a date.”
I shrugged. “Fine then. Would you like to go out with me again?”
“Sure.”
“When’s good for you?”
“How about tomorrow at eight?”
“Sounds good.”
“Meet you at my club?”
“Okay.”
Silence.
“What’s the second factor?” Valerie asked.
“Hmm?”
“The second factor in your reasoning to sleep with me.”
I turned so I could face her. I liked the way she was framed by the car window with zooming cars flashing in the background. It looked almost magical. “I guess, how much I like you would be factor number two.”
She grinned slightly. “Is there a factor number three?”
“How good of a kisser you are.”
Valerie was quiet. “Is that your way of telling me to kiss you?”
“No. I have factors for kissing too.”
She smiled, throwing the truck into gear. She pulled back out into the road without saying anything.
That went relatively smoothly, I thought, feeling rather proud of myself.
“Okay, so what are the factors for kissing?” Valerie asked.
I glanced at her then shrugged. “I haven’t come up with them yet, but when I do you’ll be the first to know.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Any time.”
“So what would you like to do now?” she asked. “Or would you like to call it a night?”
I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing, or what I wanted, but I knew for a fact that “calling it a night” wasn’t it. “Let’s rent a movie,” I suggested. “We can take it back to Jessica’s.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She smiled. I smiled. We both smiled. And my heart might have even grinned a little.
But just a little.
Ò
Choosing a movie that we would both enjoy was the tricky part. Maybe this would be the determining factor as to the future of our relationship. What if she wanted to watch a western? I hate westerns. She could’ve turned out to be the biggest western fanatic this side of El Paso. Then what would I do? Or maybe she was the sappy romantic type. What if she wanted to watch Gone With the Wind? I’d have to kill her.
Perhaps this had been a bad idea.
“What are you in the mood for?” Valerie asked, as we crossed through the doors of the video store.
“Well, I guess this would be a good time to ask what your favorite type of movies are,” I commented, as we passed by the DVD selections on our way to new releases.
Valerie half turned as she answered. “Horror mostly. You?”
Marry me. Now. “Horror too.” I smiled a bit sheepishly. “I also like comedies,” I added, not sure why. Perhaps so she wouldn’t think I was copying her. “I’ll even deal with action. As long as there’s a lot of blood.”
She smiled. “Do you want to check out the new releases or go straight for the horror section?”
I shrugged. So we started off in new releases. Half an hour later, we walked out of the door with copies of Blue Streak, Night of the Living Dead, House on Hunted Hill, and Run Lola Run. Quite the variety, I must say. “So how many of these do you think we’ll actually get through?”
“One?” Valerie guessed, starting up the car.
I nodded. “Sounds about right.”
Valerie turned on the radio, and I was grateful that it saved us the trouble of making conversation. On the plus side, I was feeling more relaxed, and far less paranoid than I had been at the start of the evening.
Meanwhile, I was trying to decide whether I wanted to invite Valerie back to my dorm. I knew Nicole was gone for the weekend, so we wouldn’t have to worry about that. But Jessica had the big TV, and my car was at her house. The logical thing was to go to Jessica’s and watch the movies. I’d spend the night and head to school in the morning. I kept myself from nodding and instead refocused on the outside world. “What are we listening to?” I asked, noticing the music for the first time.
“Save Ferris,” Valerie responded, lowering the volume so we wouldn’t have to shout over the music. “Want me to switch to something else?”
I shook my head. “Nah, it’s not bad. I’d just never heard them before. Are they your favorite band?”
“Yeah, they’re up there. I also like Dance Hall Crashers.”
“Never heard of them either.”
“I guess you’re not into ska.”
“Can’t say that I am. Although, it’s more from lack of exposure than anything else.”
Valerie glanced between my face and the road for several seconds before responding with, “Well, hopefully you’ll decide to hang around me long enough to expose yourself.”
“Do you come up with these things on the spot, or do you have this like endless storage of cheesy one-liners?”
“Both.” She winked.
I smiled, turning my attention to the window.
“You’re really not the flirting type, huh?”
I looked at her. “I think flirting is just a coward’s way of saying what’s really on their mind.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“For instance, by your ‘expose yourself’ comment, what you were really trying to say is that you like me.”
Valerie glanced at me. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes. It was either that, or you hope I hang around long enough to sleep with you.”
“Can it be both?”
I laughed. “Possibly.”
“So instead of flirting, you just come right out and say what you really mean to say?”
I considered the question as Jessica’s mansion rolled into view. “Well, not necessarily. Sometimes, I just don’t say anything at all. This saves me the embarrassment of saying something I’ll regret saying two seconds later.”
Valerie parked the car in Jessica’s driveway, right in front of my beetle, and turned off the ignition. “You are one strange woman.”
“Thank you,” I responded, and jumped out of the car, carrying the bag of movies with me.
Maurice was opening the door before I even got a chance to ring the doorbell. It was uncanny. Sometimes I got the feeling that he stood at the front door, staring through the peephole just waiting for someone to show up so he could open the door for them. He bowed his head as I passed through the threshold. “Welcome, miss.”
“Hiya, Maurice. My friend Valerie and I are just going to Jessica’s room to watch some movies.” I held up the bag for emphasis.
“Very well, miss.” He nodded at Valerie, shut the door behind us, and excused himself.
Valerie watched him walk away and frowned. “You’d think he’d be a little bit more hesitant to let us in here while the owner of the house is away.”
I shook my head and started toward the staircase. “Rule number one in the Heart mansion: Alix rules all.”
“What’s rule number two?” Valerie asked, following me up the stairs.
“There is no rule two. Rule one is all that matters.” I smiled at her, then continued in silence the rest of the way to Jessica’s room.
We managed to get through House on Hunted Hill and Blue Streak before exhaustion set in. It was nearly four in the morning, and we’d been on the verge of falling asleep on Jessica’s couch when Valerie announced that she’d better get going.
“You can sleep over if you’d like,” I offered, motioning to Jessica’s king-sized bed. “You’ll have plenty of room, I promise.”
Valerie smiled, but shook her head and declined. “I’ve got to go to work in a few hours. I might as well head home.”
“I’ll walk you out then.”
Outside, the ocean breeze planted salty kisses on my cheek as I followed Valerie across the gravel driveway to her car. I was wondering how the evening was going to end. Would she kiss me? Would I kiss her back? Would I freak out and run? Did she know this was my first time? Questions and no answers. This was the story of my life.
“I had fun tonight,” Valerie announced as she reached her car.
I scrunched up my face. “Can’t you think of anything better than that? I mean, that’s what everyone says at the end of a date. Even if they had a horrible time, they always say the same exact thing.”
“You’re so difficult.”
I smiled. “Much better.”
She laughed and ran a hand through her hair. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yep. Whispers at eight.”
There was that awkward silence that occurs when two people aren’t sure what to do next and must take a moment to decide the next course of action. I was hoping she’d kiss me. I was trying to conjure up enough courage to kiss her. Neither choice seemed likely, and as she opened the driver’s side door to get into the car, I saw my chance slipping away. Instead of taking it, I said the wittiest thing I could come up with. “Drive safely.”
“Yes, mom.”
I grinned, then watched her drive away. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly four-thirty and I was about to collapse. On my way back to Jessica’s room, I couldn’t help but think that my life had suddenly gotten interesting.
I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing . . . or a bad thing.